There's a life beyond the bars which teaches more than the real functional mundane world
I'm a prisoner...
Every morning I open my eyes to clattering noises. There is disturbance all around. Nothing has changed a bit in 20 years. My imprisonment will come to an end tomorrow. Even I’ve forgotten how many days, months, or years it has been or what is the date today. Time seems to be cold and distant. Time flies in prison and even worse is when everyday seems to be the same. I walk wearily to the usual morning schedule of bathing, working and eating. I’ve no family and even if I’ve one, I don’t know where they live. 20 years back I killed my wife. I had a son. He must be a young man now. Sturdy and strong, the way I used to be. Though he never visited me once in all these years but I miss him. The only memory I have of him is the terrified and forlorn face of an 8 year old during the court proceedings. I could look into those eyes and feel the guilt creeping in. when I was convicted of a lifetime imprisonment, it didn’t grieve me as much as I sensed the hatred of my son. After all, he was the only one I could call my family. It is because of those eyes, the look he had on his face that killed me everyday from within and I kept imagining how much I’ve ruined his life. He has no one to look up to, no one to call ‘dad’. I’m here behind the bars but he has to confront the world, the society and live with the fact that his father is a murderer. I keep remembering him and my wife everyday and how happy we were when we were together until one day when I found my wife with another man on my bed. I could see the tears in her eyes but the anguish burned inside me. I stabbed both of them on the same night.
They say man is responsible for his own circumstances and destiny, Circumstances, because it makes him who he is and destiny because God watches us at every step and does justice to each one of us. The only reformation that went through my blood was the sight of seeing my son once again, to re-unite with my family and live a longer life, to be forgiven of my sins and cleansed at the hands of God. Before sleeping, when I lie on my stone bed and see the flickering bulb overhead, I pray for one chance where I could turn back the time, just once and live a life, which I could be proud of, which my son could be proud of. I stare hard into the darkness and try to keep the faith inside me shining like the star I can see through my window. I’m an old man now, with weak bones and feeble eyesight limping my way through days and nights. Even if I break free one day, I’ll have nowhere to go and no one to see. The day I killed my wife I killed myself too. Now I’m nobody to this world. I’m without any existence and without any coherence. People have forgotten my name. Men whom I used to call my friends have died. My son has abhorred and condemned my memories like a bad dream. My wife lies in heaven, safe, and smiling. Smiling at me, smiling at my wasted life, which I could’ve spent with her…lived with her. As I close my eyes tonight I draw the circle of life, which looks like a non-entity, insignificant and void. I see His face shining profusely as I stagger to enter a different world.
He walked confidently and briskly towards the entrance. A young man entered the premises and asked for the convict no.’FY657’.
‘I’m sorry sir; the old man died last night…he was too old and weak. It’s sad that none of his family members came to attend his last rites. May I know your relation with him Sir?’
‘I’m his son!’